Giggles in the Dark
by Balrog Pimp
Summary: A playful tickle ficlet that I felt I needed to write to lighten my previous writings. Whilst in Moria Aragorn discovers a secret about Boromir and wins a somewhat different victory over him to get his Steward to open up to him.


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> **Giggles in the Dark**
> 
> It was impossibly dark in Moria. The only source of light from Gandalf's staff had been put out.  
  
Aragorn sat next to Boromir, reaching down to retrieve his pipe from his long jacket, his elbow accidentally nudging Boromir in the side. An odd sound escaped the younger man and he moved away slightly.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"You made a peculiar sound, are you hurt?"  
  
"No."  
  
Aragorn reached out and poked Boromir in the side again. Once again the little repressed squeak could be heard and Boromir leapt away to the side again crying: "Will you cut that out?" It was so dark that Aragorn could barely see Boromir in front of him, but that did not stop him from hearing the hint of a giggle in his voice.  
  
"Boromir, are you ticklish?" The ranger asked almost incredulously.  
  
"No of course not! Where in the world would you get an idiotic notion like that?" Boromir growled. He hoped that by playing it safe, Aragorn would drop the matter and leave him alone. But obviously he did not know his future king well for Aragorn was a determined man and followed every pursuit with vigour and dedication.  
  
"Oh, then I suppose you won't make that childish giggling sound again if I do this!" he said darting out his hand out into the darkness to tickle at Boromir's side.  
  
There came a rapid intake of breath, before two hands flew up to cover his own mouth.  
  
"Uh uh uh! That's cheating!" lectured Aragorn, pushing the broader man to the ground his hands now tickling everywhere he could reach.  
  
Boromir was now in a fix. He had to stop Aragorn at once before he burst but the laughter was threatening to spill out if he removed his hands from his mouth. All he could do was shake in silent mirth while he wriggled to get away.  
  
Aragorn was not a simpleton and he knew for a fact that this warrior from Gondor was stubbornly trying to deny his 'weakness'. It was stupid, why did people think it was a weakness? He wasn't trying to make the Lord of Gondor look like a fool he was just trying to get a laugh out of him. He had never heard Boromir laugh, save one occasion with the hobbits Merry and Pippin. Why did he have to act so highly strung around him? Boromir clearly resented him for being the King but Aragorn didn't want that title for himself anymore than Boromir did. All the future King wanted right now was to get a laugh out of his Steward and Aragorn would stop at nothing.  
  
"Get... your hands off me!" came the muffled cry.  
  
"Not until you admit your ticklish!" came Aragorn's quick reply. He would not loose, not in a sword fight and equally not in a tickle fight.  
  
Aragorn could feel tremors run through the body of the man beneath him as he dug his fingers deeply into his ribs. He could hear his breath sucking at his own hands as he refused to let himself laugh. How proud this man must be to restrict himself from easy laughter.  
  
A sudden idea struck the darker man. If Boromir's hands were over his mouth then...  
  
"Arrrahaha!" Boromir tried to kick Aragorn of him as his quick fingers found the sensitive grooves beneath his arms.  
  
"Hmmm... that was an interesting sound. Wish it wasn't so muffled!" Aragorn crowed and his fingers lighted to torturous spider touches.  
  
"Aragoohaorrrn!" the poor solider cried desperately trying to crush his fingers while at the same time trying to cover his mouth.  
  
"Come on Boromir you can save us both a whole lot of trouble if you just admit it." Cried Aragorn.  
  
Boromir was now squirming violently all over the ground like a hyperactive worm in an epic struggle to escape from Aragorn's clutches.  
  
"Not going to give in? Well neither am I!"  
  
Ranger fingers darted downward to poke Boromir repeatedly in the stomach. If one could have seen them in broad daylight it would have looked utterly ridiculous. Boromir flat on his back with his hands clamped over his mouth, tears streaming down his face, kicking his legs furiously as Aragorn kneeled over him poking him in the belly.  
  
Finally Boromir could take it no longer. He took his hands away from his mouth laughing maniacally as he tried to grab hold of Aragorn's hands.  
  
"Okay! Okay! You win! I admit! It tickles, it tickles! I am ticklish, so stop tickling me!" The loud squeal erupted from Boromir.  
  
Immediately Aragorn stopped. "There that wasn't so hard was it?" he asked cheerily, proud of his somewhat different sort of victory over the man.  
  
There was no reply except for exhausted pants, punctuated by random little giggling spurts from time to time. The two men didn't notice the sudden quiet that had descended among the fellowship.  
  
"Never ever do that again..." Boromir growled, but it was not his usual growl. The icy front between the two men had seemed to have disappeared.  
  
"Why not? I rather like your laugh... I wish you did that more often." Aragorn replied somewhat whimsically.  
  
"Mention this to anyone and, King or no King, I swear I will kill you."  
  
"Mention what?" A new voice popped up from somewhere out of the shadows.  
  
A mischievous look passed Aragorn's face. He didn't care if he didn't live to be King anyway.  
  
"That Boromir is very ticklish. Possibly the most ticklish person I know."  
  
"Is that so?" asked seven other evil sounding Fellowship voices out of the blackness, somewhat more closer to Boromir than he would have felt comfortable.  
  
"Araagooorn!" he cried, as he was jumped by the entire fellowship.
> 
> End


End file.
